I'm sorry
by Apollo's Lady
Summary: Why did Mary apologize in Home?  Just a small attempt on my part to explain.  Sam and Dean set out to learn more about their mother.
1. Chapter 1

**AU, set sometime after "Simon Said" in season two. I'm obsessed with Mary's apology in "Home." Please note; this story digresses just a bit from storyline established in the comics. **

**Thanks for taking the time to read and reply. It adds to the enjoyment of writing.**

**I'm sorry.**

**By Apollo's Lady**

"Dean, did you ever really look through this box?" Sam rifled through the various papers in the old wooden box Jenny had found in her basement, a basement that had once belonged to the Winchester family.

Sam was bored. They'd been driving aimlessly; trying to dredge up some business to hunt, but it seemed the Supernatural world was taking a vacation. Rather than stop for a rest, Dean insisted on driving to random parts of the country to continue the search.

Sam had found the box stuffed under the driver's seat and began to examine its contents. Dean had apparently shoved the box there and forgotten it. Sam knew his brother didn't want to be reminded of that particular hunt. He'd sworn when he was young he'd never return to Lawrence or that house ever again. Sam had dragged him there, only to find their former house once again possessed and suffer through watching their mother, even if only her spirit, go up in flames for a second time.

It had been undoubtedly hard on both and yet something had always bothered Sam about his mother's words to him.

"_I'm sorry." _

He'd asked 'what for', but she hadn't answered. Why was his mother sorry for him? She hadn't said it to Dean. Of course, it could have simply been a platitude, but why? It had always puzzled the youngest Winchester. He had turned six months old the night she was murdered. He had no memories of his own, only what his dad and brother had shared. The return to their former home was his only concrete interaction with his mother and it haunted him.

He sighed. He was getting used to situations in his life haunting him. The dream of a normal life had long since faded. Sam knew now, it wasn't possible for him.

He glanced at Dean, wondering what was going through his mind. "Dean?"

His brother's hand drummed automatically with the rhythm of the music. Between it and the black river of highway, his brother was elsewhere.

Sam reached over and turned down the music.

"HEY!" Dean slapped at Sam's already retreating hand. "Don't touch the music controls! You KNOW the rules, bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know the rules, but I was trying to get your attention, Jerk!"

Dean scowled. "SO! You've got it now. What's so all fired important that you interrupt the musical excellence of Brian Howe?"

Sam stifled the desire to roll his eyes again. Only Dean would consider Bad Company musical genius. "Have you ever looked at all this stuff?" He indicated the box on his lap. "It's got everything. I can't believe dad missed it when he was packing up."

"Dad didn't spend a lot of time cleaning out the house, Sam." The tone of Dean's voice was tinged with sadness. "He had other things to worry about. I think you were teething or something." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I suppose, but…" Sam lifted out a document and grinned. "Time to get your passport, dude. It's your birth certificate." He carefully unfolded the paper and scanned it. "Dude! You were a total porker. You weighed over 9 pounds at birth!"

Dean grumbled, refusing to cave in to his little brother's bait. "Mexico, here were come." He quickly added. "You weren't so tiny yourself, Francis."

Sam smiled, knowing he'd eventually hook his brother into the box's contents. "Here's mine… I think… no wait. It's their marriage certificate… and all these pictures." He considered one. "Missouri was right, you were kinda goofy looking." He flashed Dean the picture showing a young Dean, holding an infant Sam.

Dean's frown lengthened. "Is your only point to ridicule me?"

Sam chuckled. "No… I just… I didn't know we had these memories. All I knew was what was in dad's journal."

"Congratulations, Sammy. You win a past that existed until you were six months old. Enjoy!" The bitterness dripped from Dean's words.

Sam stopped his reply. It was obvious Dean wasn't interested in dredging up the past. He continued rummaging through but pulled out one of the folded papers. Reading it slowly, a smile crept onto his face. "It's weird to think of them so young."

"What?" Dean asked. Sam had been mumbling.

Sam showed Dean the paper. "It's their marriage certificate."

"Who's? Mom and dad?" Dean asked, not taking the time to actually read the paper presented to him.

"No, dumbass, Bobby's." Sam groaned. Dean wasn't really paying attention.

"Hey! How am I supposed to know? Anything interesting in a marriage certificate?"

Sam reread the paper. "Not really… just the specifics… Wait!" His eyes reread the information several times. "I thought mom was from Kansas."

"I dunno. I guess I assumed she was." Dean shrugged.

"It says here she was from Indiana. Dean, we're not too far from there. Let's go check out her home town." Sam's eyes twinkled with eager anticipation.

One look at Sam sent Dean spiraling back twenty years to the days when his brother was irresistible. Even their father had complained about Sam's puppy dog face when he wanted something badly enough. "Why in the hell would we do that?"

Sam scrambled for a reason Dean would accept. "What if there's people there who knew her and remember her? They could tell us stories. What if we still have distant relatives Dad never mentioned?"

Dean frowned. "Grandpa Cutter didn't want anything to do with us. Dad said so."

"Maybe he's still there? Maybe we could find out why? Wouldn't it be cool to find long lost relatives?" Sam pressed on with his points.

"Why? What would we have in common with them? Nothing! It's always been the three of us, that's it." Dean demanded.

"Don't you mean 'two' of us? Dad's dead." Sam snarled. He couldn't understand why Dean hesitated.

Dean simply glared at him. "Look, if this is some stupid attempt to reach out to that normal life you want, drop it. You won't find it looking in the past and that's what all this nonsense is." He reached over, closed the lid and tossed the box into the back seat.

Sam was quiet. "You're wrong, you know. It hasn't always been just the three of us. There was once four of us. Don't forget that."

Sam's simple words cut through Dean's heart. He treasured the relatively few memories he had of his mother and the days before she died. He knew Sam had none of those and Dean fought to make sure he remembered as much as possible for Sam's sake. It often brought him comfort during the darkest times. Now, his little brother was asking to know more about their mother and he was telling him no.

Normally, Dean was confident of his big-brother abilities. Today he knew he was hopelessly failing. "Fine. Where did she live?"

"In a place called Plymouth, Indiana… South of South Bend." Sam pulled out a map and began to note the directions.

Dean shook his head, muttering. "You're spoiled, you know that?"

Sam merely grinned.

** Supernatural **

They'd found a cheap motel, unloaded their stuff and made for the library to research Mary Elizabeth Cutter.

Both Winchesters found themselves caught up in the material they found on their mother. Their grandmother had died when Mary was a child, but their grandfather still lived. He was a wildly successful businessman in the town, who'd made a fortune in numerous arenas. It wasn't hard to find articles about him.

Mary had been popular as well it seemed. She was mentioned in articles for her athleticism and various school projects, no doubt due also due to who her father was. One of the librarians helping them told them about the archive of school newspapers and the boys spent the next hour reading stories of her high school exploits.

"Damn. We know where you get your geeky normal tendencies, Sammy." Dean closed the book he'd been reading. "I thought you were more like dad."

Sam chuckled softly, closing his own book. "Nah, you have her personality and looks."

Dean gazed at a picture before him. "She was beautiful. I remember she'd always blush when dad told her so."

The boys lapsed into silence and began to pack up the books they'd been using.

A different librarian strolled by and stopped. "Are you finding all you need?"

Sam coughed and glanced to see what Dean would do. Dean looked away. "Um, yes, thanks. I think we're finished. We were just looking for information on our mother."

Sam winced internally. Dean was a wanted man with a determined federal agent on his tail. They weren't using their real names. Now, he'd just admitted as much to this man. It was a big slip for Dean. Sam could only imagine it was a result of their trip down memory lane.

"She's from around here?" The man asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Yes. She died when we were both very young and we don't know much about her." Sam was trying to limit the exchange of information, but yet didn't want to seem rude or suspicious. In this day and age of identity theft, people were more cautious.

"What was her name? I might have known her… Been here my whole life." The man pulled out a chair across the table and sank into it.

Dean had had enough. He knew he'd screwed up and it angered him. "We're done. We got what we needed, but thanks anyway."

"He's a mean old bastard." The librarian offered.

Sam and Dean exchanged quick glances and then Sam spoke. "We're researching our mother."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Margret told me. I'm sorry about all that. That's why I came over. I went to school with your mom. Mary Cutter, right? She was a class act, a great girl. It's her father, your grandfather, Michael Cutter; he's the bastard. It's no wonder you don't know anything about her. When she married your dad and moved away, he disowned her."

Sam swallowed. "We didn't really think to meet him."

"He's at his home in Arizona now anyway. He doesn't spend as much time in Plymouth anymore." An idea suddenly hit him. "We've got old yearbooks here too. How about those?"

Dean scowled and was about to decline the offer when Sam enthusiastically accepted. The man rose and disappeared behind the counter into a back room. When he reappeared he carried four books. He set them on the table. "She was involved in everything, so you'll see lots of pictures."

He stood behind the brothers looking over their shoulder. He eagerly opened the first book and flipped to the picture section. He ran his thumb along the pictures until he stopped at a freshman picture of Mary. "You look like her." He said to Dean.

Dean didn't like a complete stranger knowing more about his mother than he did and he certainly didn't like the same stranger reminding him of who he favored. "Sam, I've had enough. I'm waiting in the car." He stood up abruptly and left.

Sam blushed. "Um, please excuse my brother. He… he doesn't like…"

"Learning about his mother from stranger?" The man sank into Dean's vacant chair and held out his hand. "I'm Tom Asklund." He grabbed the final yearbook and flipped to a page he seemed to know well.

Sam looked at the large picture of the prom king and queen. His mother's eyes glittered back and next to her was a much younger version of the man beside him. "You…"

"Dated her for three years, yes. I, of all people, know what a lucky man your father was." He sighed. "Look, I didn't mean to butt in. I know this is personal. I… I just thought you should know, maybe it would help… if you knew others missed her… still cared about her…"

Sam swallowed. "It does. Thank you." He quietly added. "My dad… it was hard for him to talk about her. He missed her a lot."

Tom smiled. "She had that effect on people."

Sam nodded. "I wish I'd known her. I was only six months old. I don't have any real memories of her."

Tom nodded in understanding and then an idea crossed his mind and showed on his face. "You know… I know someone you need to meet. She'll be thrilled to meet Mary's boys." He continued after a moment. "Your mom would have understood your pain. Your grandma died when your mom was only six. Your grandpa found a nanny to raise her. She lives over in the Courtdale Nursing Home."

Sam smiled. "Sounds perfect. What's her name?"

"Imogene Tibbins."


	2. Chapter 2

**Please excuse the blunder in chapter one. It's been corrected now. (Course, you all didn't know it was a blunder, but you would have caught it. You're smart.)**

**Thanks to those who reviewed or added an alert. It's an honor and inspires. Now, what does Imogene have to offer the boys?**

**Chapter Two...**

Dean refused to go with Sam to see Imogene at first. He wasn't at all comfortable with this emotional journey. It was going too far. He didn't want Sam to question things. Course, he knew it was what Sam had always done, but it didn't mean he wanted him to. After a few minutes of argument, he conceded to go, but only if they waited until tomorrow.

"Tonight, we hit the bars, wrangle up some money and relax a bit." He oozed charm with his smile, masking any distress as usual.

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well he couldn't deny his brother. Dean wasn't one to encourage emotional situations and this exploration of their mother's life was nothing, if not emotional. He owed Dean a night off to be sure. Compromise was always good.

The next morning, Sam was up and ready to go before Dean even noticed his activity.

"What the hell, Sammy. Sleep is not a bad thing. You should try it some time." Dean refused to get out from under the covers.

Sam smiled to further annoy his brother. "The early bird catches the worm, bro. Besides, old folks tend to be earlier risers." He waited a beat to add his greatest persuasion. "And you wouldn't want to get stuck at a nursing home while she naps, would you?"

Dean growled and pulled himself slowly to a sitting position. "Is this it? Will we be done after we talk to super nanny?"

Sam scowled. "Why are you so against this?"

Dean refused to respond. He stood, stretched and snapped up the keys to his beloved Impala. He threw them abruptly at Sam. "You go get breakfast and I want a GOOD one. No healthy crap… and strong coffee… Lots of coffee."

Sam chuckled. In fact, he'd been on his way to steal the keys when Dean woke. There were many things that annoyed Dean. An empty stomach was high on the list.

Sufficiently nourished, the boys left for the nursing home. Dean was suspiciously quiet. Sam longed to ask about the silence, but he knew he was already pushing Dean too far.

They entered the facility, which was bright and clean, but still reeked of age. Dean grumbled as they waited for a receptionist to help them. The atmosphere sent a shiver down his spine. On the surface everything was pleasant enough, but underneath the tasteful decor was the stench of impending death. How many would be tormented spirits?

"Why did you want to see Ms. Tibbins?" The curt woman asked, narrowing her eyes.

Dean opened his mouth to invent a believable story, but Sam cut him off. "She was very close to our mother and mom made us promise if we were ever in the area, we'd look her up. Is there a problem?"

The woman examined the two men closely. "It's just rather odd. Ms. Tibbins doesn't have any family and no one has ever come to see her." She coughed and raised her chin a bit more haughtily. "We owe it to our residents to protect their best interests. How do I know you won't be trying to bilk her out of her savings?"

Dean growled and backed off before he did something he knew Sam would regret.

Sam coughed and tried to calm his voice. "That's a wonderful policy. I promise you, we just want to talk to her about our mother. We won't be making any deals or trying to sell her anything."

The woman sighed. "Fine. She's down the hall in room 332. If she's not there, try the garden. She likes it out there in the mornings."

Sam smiled and thanked her graciously while grabbing Dean's arm and pulling him in the indicated direction. He could feel the tension in Dean's arm. "They're just doing their job, Dean. You should appreciate that they're keeping her safe." He glanced quickly at his brother and flashed an impish smile. "So long as some girl's angry daddy doesn't catch you, some day you'll be living somewhere like this."

Dean stopped abruptly in his tracks. "What?" His face contorted as he replayed Sam's words. "What makes you think I'd live some place like this?"

Sam held his hands up in defense. "I just assumed you'd like to live to a ripe old age. Forgive me."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "If I do live to a ripe old age… and I'm planning on going out fighting… but if I need taking care of…" He jabbed Sam in the chest with his index finger. "You'll take care of me."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why me?"

"You owe me! I've been watching your ass since you were born. It's the least you can do."

Sam didn't detect a hint of jest in Dean's tone. He was sincere in his expectations. "Ok, then." With a smirk, he added. "I just assumed you'd be sick of me by then."

Dean shook his head. "Nope, you get diaper changing duty for once."

Sam couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Sure... let's just hope you've lost your mind too."

Dean's reply was a sharp rap to the base of Sam's skull. "Let's find Mary Poppins and get this over with."

Sam shook his head. "Got any more nanny names in mind?"

Dean thought a minute. "Mammy? Think mom called her 'mammy'? She was an awesome nanny, took good care of Scarlet."

Sam rolled his eyes and quickened his pace. He had asked after all. He arrived at the door a few steps later and knocked politely, even though the door was partially open. "Ms. Tibbins?"

"Yes? Who's there?" A strong voice came from inside the room.

Sam exchanged glances with Dean, as if asking for a plan. "Ah, Ms. Tibbins, my name is Sam and my brother Dean and I are here to ask you…"

He didn't finish as the door opened with a whoosh of air. "Mary's babies?"

"Ah… yeah. We're Sam and Dean Winchester…" Sam stared at her in confusion. "How did you know?" Maybe Tom had told her?

Before them, the older woman who was too small and dainty to have produced the strong voice, smiled warmly. "I've waited a lot of years to meet my Mary's boys. Who else could you be? Who else would come visit old 'Mogene."

Dean glanced nervously around the hallway to see what attention they were attracting. "Ah, we'd like to talk to you about our mom. Could we come in?"

She shook her head. "No. No, this tiny room isn't fitting for Mary's boys. Let's go out to the garden. It's nice out there this time of day."

Sam stepped out of the doorway, allowing the older woman to pass. He raised expectant eyebrows at his brother and fell in step next to her. "We're really glad to meet you. We… ah… might have been here sooner, but we… We didn't know. Tom Asklund told us about you yesterday."

They strolled to a sunny spot of the garden that contained a few benches. Imogene settled herself on one and invited the boys to sit across from her with a wave of her hand. "Tom's a good man. He loved your mother. They were a nice couple." She smiled reading the uncertainty in the boy's faces. "Until she met your father, I thought for sure they'd end up getting married."

Sam swallowed and selected one of the thousands of questions running through his mind. "Did you ever meet our father?"

She nodded. "Your mom brought him by before they were married. She'd wanted to introduce him to that idiot grandfather of yours, but Cutter wouldn't have anything to do with her. He said all kinds of nasty things to her. He wouldn't even meet your dad. He's a bitter, evil man. It was good she got away when she did. She didn't need him staining her future."

"Does our grandfather know about us?" Sam asked further. He'd already decided that asking was the line. Even if the old man had been in town, he wouldn't plan on meeting him.

She nodded. "Sure. Your mother never gave up the hope of thawing that man's heart."

"How did you know about us?" Dean finally broke in.

"Your mother, of course." She beamed with pride. "Your dad even sent me a note now and again after your poor mom died, but that didn't last long. He… He grieved powerfully for her. Loved her more than life, I think… Well," With a glint in her eyes, she added. "Her and his sons."

Sam smiled. He never failed to warm to confirmation of his father's love. Their relationship had been too tempestuous. His smile faded as he realized she probably didn't know he'd died. "Our dad died a few months back."

Her eyes immediately filled with tears. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. It was sudden. It still hurts, but…" He glanced at Dean and stopped. Something in his brother's expression scared him into ceasing the current discussion. Dad's death was still too fresh for Dean.

Imogene reached out and touched Sam's hand. "They both loved you boys. I've never seen a pair more eager to become parents."

She turned to stare Dean down for a few moments. "You have her face."

The intense swallow revealed to all how Dean was fighting to keep his emotions in check.

Imogene seemed lost in the past and then went on. "Your mom wrote to me often. She told me all about getting married and the house they'd found. They wanted a big family and she was hoping to have her own babies right away."

Both Dean and Sam were surprised by this piece of information. "But they decided to wait a few years, right?" Dean wasn't born until two years after they were married. That didn't indicate an immediate pregnancy.

Imogene sighed. "Well, she lost those first two babies… Nearly tore her heart in two."

Both Winchesters were stunned. Sam forced the words out. "I never knew." He looked to Dean for confirmation and found it.

"Why would they share that pain with babies? No, that's not a surprise. Your mom didn't like to talk about it. She wanted a family. Your dad used to tease her about having a baseball team."

Dean felt his throat constricting. His dad used to toss a ball, but had never expressed more than a passing interest in baseball. Had it died with their first two children? Dean refused to consider what it all meant. He wasn't really the eldest. "But then they had me." He tried to lighten the mood and change the emotional content before it got beyond his ability to control.

Sam chuckled. "I'm surprised they didn't stop. Or maybe they knew they needed to do better?" He was teasing and raised an eyebrow to prove it.

"Too bad they didn't..." Dean grumbled.

"Oh, you two are bad to one another. Stop that." She swatted at each gently, her gaze falling on Dean. She did let her hand rest on his knee. "They were so proud of you. Mary filled many letters with stories of her darling baby Dean."

Dean couldn't fight the blush to his cheeks. It stopped however when Imogene fell silent.

"What? There's something you're not telling us." Dean knew he was right. His fingers lightly touched hers. "Tell us." His own unwillingness to come forgotten.

She sighed. "She got so desperate. She wanted more babies. Things got tough between your parents for a while. Mary wanted another baby so badly, but it wasn't happening. A few doctors thought it would be risky and that she shouldn't try. John, he didn't want to lose her, so he said one was fine... kept insisting as much."

Dean watched Sam closely. That wasn't something that would make a kid feel good. "I don't remember mom having problems during her pregnancy."

The older lady smiled. "She didn't. Those years later, she had a wonderful pregnancy and delivered her second, healthy baby boy." She reached her other hand to Sam's knee. "And she was just as thrilled. Her letters were filled with joy."

Sam smiled weakly. "The doctors were wrong?"

"I guess so, since you're here and all."

Sam felt his consciousness leaving his body. He floated above the trio in the garden. He needed to get away in order to think. The truth was nagging at him and he needed the time and space to formulate it into words. It almost felt like a vision was coming.

_Why was he cursed?_

_Why had the yellow-eyed demon chosen him?_

_Why was his mother dead?_

_Why was Jess dead?_

_Why did he seem to be a magnet for supernatural abuse?_

He slammed back into his body and spoke abruptly. "Did she seek special help to conceive me?"

Dean looked at him, startled and angered. "Sam! That's… What the heck are you thinking?"

Sam ignored him and concentrated on Imogene, willing her to provide the answer he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you again for taking the time to read, review or add an alert. **

**BTW: Dean has some cursing in this chapter.**

**Chapter Three**

Imogene saw the pain in Sam's eyes and wasn't sure she was going to help or hurt him. The energy coming from his body told her he'd not stop until he had the whole story, so she stretched a bit on the bench and resettled herself to tell her tale.

"Your mom was desperate for another baby. She would have done anything. It caused a lot of stress between them."

"Mom and dad?" Sam asked to clarify.

She nodded.

Dean could do nothing but sit tight and listen and he knew it. He was fairly sure that whatever they were about to hear, wouldn't be good.

"Your mom came to visit me once." She looked at Dean. "You were about two or so."

"She wanted to introduce me to Cutter?" Dean asked, softly.

Imogene nodded. "She was trying to use you, honestly. She came to beg her father for money to get the fertility treatments she wanted. She and John couldn't afford them on their own. She assumed he'd see you and his heart would warm to another." She smiled and leaned toward Dean. "You were kinda cute. You didn't have those…" She pointed to Sam's now vague dimples. "But you were a cutie patootie."

Dean scowled, knowing Sam would save that piece of torture for a later date. His only hope was Imogene revealing something equally as embarrassing about Sammy.

"Your dad wasn't happy when she suggested it. He forbade her to go. She told him she wouldn't, but did anyway. She made me promise I'd never tell John. It took all she had to knock on his door."

"Did he give her the money?" Sam asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Oh course not. He's a terrible man. I'm so glad you haven't met him. I'd hate for you to be tainted by his wicked soul."

_Instead I'm tainted by a yellow-eyed demon?_

"Dad implied as much." Dean added.

Sam didn't much care about those details. "So, did he help her?"

"Of course not. But she wasn't about to give up. She went doctor to doctor in and around the state of Kansas trying to find someone who would help her."

"Obviously, someone did, because I'm here." Sam offered sharply, willing the rambling woman to get to the heart of her story.

She shook her head. "No. You were a pure and natural gift."

Sam scowled and he looked down to his feet to hide his emotions. Dean knew his baby brother wasn't satisfied. He wasn't sure there wasn't something missing either, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Your dad and I were both glad she didn't have to go through with that crazy Dr. Gelber character. Your father was freaked out by him and that was enough to bother me too."

Sam's head shot up. "Who was this Doctor Gelber?"

"Well, from what your mother told me, he was some specialist she found, but he wasn't quite like the others. He claimed to practice holistic medicine. Said that things didn't just happen from science; you had to have a spiritual intervention as well."

Sam felt his heart beating way too fast and if he looked anywhere but forward, the world began to spin. "Where did she meet him? Was he in Lawrence?"

Dean sensed another return trip to Lawrence and his own heart began skipping beats as he waited for her answer.

She shook her head. "No, she used to slip over to Topeka during the day when your dad was at work. Well, at first. Eventually, she brought him with her." She nodded her head, as if agreeing with the memory. "He decided on the first visit that they weren't going to have anything to do with him. He called him a crackpot."

"Did mom go back… on her own?" Sam pushed the words out of his mouth. He wanted the answer and yet didn't.

"No, she didn't need to. A few days later, she discovered she was already pregnant."

**….Supernatural….**

Dean rolled over, scowling. The only light in the darkened hotel room was the greenish glow of Sam's new laptop. He was beginning to regret the con they'd staged to replace the destroyed one of old. For a while after the accident, despite the loss of their father, they'd both had sleep filled nights. Once the libraries closed, they were forced to shut down. "Sam, get some sleep."

Sam ignored his brother's order, if he even heard it.

"Sam… if that's porn, I am now awake, so it would be… awkward… if you continue. Get to bed. We're leaving first thing in the morning." Dean continued to ramble on, not 100 percent awake.

They'd finished their conversation with Imogene and left her with promises to at least write now and again. Dean noted that Sam was careful to make no promises he couldn't keep. He might be able to lie with a straight face, but only if he had to.

He'd been eerily quiet throughout the rest of the day. Dean even offered to drive by the family homestead.

"_We could break in and look around?" There was a mischievous grin on his face._

As a last resort, Dean offered Sam a piece of his soul.

"_I didn't want to do this. You know that, Sammy." He waited for a response but got none. "But… it wasn't bad… But…" He waited again for a response, even a nod from his brother. Nothing. He lost the urge to reveal more, but ended quietly. "All this did is show me all the more what we lost out on. How is that supposed to help?"_

He had held his breath waiting for Sam to reply to his confession, but Sam had said nothing.

Even though he knew his brother needed to discuss things to work through them, he wasn't going to immediately pressure his brother.

Now, watching him lose sleep over the day's events, he knew it was time to push.

Dean climbed quickly out of the covers and stormed to Sam's side. He closed the lid. "Knock it off, Sam. There's nothing there."

Sam's jaw clenched for a moment and then he coldly replied. "You're wrong. I'm beginning to form a trail all over the United States on this Doctor Gelber. He was in Saginaw, Michigan and Guthrie, Oklahoma. Max and Andrew ring any bells?" He turned even colder eyes on his brother. "Go back to bed, Dean. This doesn't concern you. I get it."

Dean's green eyes flashed with anger. "Doesn't concern me? Every freakin' thing about you concerns me Sammy… including your sleep habits. This trail will be there in the morning."

"We don't have wireless pick up in this area of the country. I won't be able to research in the car. I have to do it now. I can sleep tomorrow." Sam tried using reason with his brother. He knew it would seem more sane to Dean.

"Sam, there's nothing there. So what? A doctor travels the country getting women pregnant? Mom didn't use him. Those cities are just a coincidence. You heard Imogene."

"She doesn't know for sure, Dean." Sam dropped his forehead into his hands. "Don't you see, Dean? It…"

Dean dropped to his knees to find his brother's eyes. "No, I don't understand, Sam. Talk to me."

"It's… It's the missing piece. All my life…" He faltered.

"All your life, what? Sam? I'm not tracking here? Mom and dad kept the fact that they had troubles from us. So what? Lots of parents do. There's nothing funny about your birth. Stop trying to find darkness that doesn't exist."

Sam looked over to meet Dean's intense gaze. His eyes welled up with unspent tears. "Don't you see? It would all make sense. Why me? Why am I cursed? If this doctor was some kind of demon… At least we'd have some answers."

Dean shook his head. "No… No way, Sammy. Mom wouldn't do that. She wouldn't use a demon to get pregnant. Don't even think you aren't John Winchester's son. Got it?"

Sam let out a burst of breath and a small smile. "Gee, thanks. I hadn't even considered that."

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "Sammy… She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't seek help from the dark side."

"Then why?" Sam whispered.

"Sam, who the hell knows why any of this happens? It just does." Dean's frustration grew again. He thought they'd made progress.

"Why did she say she was sorry then Dean? Why? It's the only thing that makes any sense. She knew."

Dean's body flooded with rage at the mere suggestion of his mother's complicity with the yellow-eyed demon. Through clenched teeth Dean growled. "You're wrong and if we have to track this fucking doctor to hell, I'll prove it."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thanks again for the review, added alerts and even some favorites. It's appreciated. AL_**

**Chapter Four**

Dr. Gelber's last known location was in Huntsville, Mississippi. The Impala roared down the interstates and highways in virtual silence. The mere suggestion that all of the horror in their lives was anything other than coincidence had forged a wall of steel between the two men.

Little conversation passed between them, save necessities. Sam spent the evening surfing the net and gathering information to read through the next day in the car. He didn't sleep as he'd told Dean he would, which angered his brother to no end. If Sam were paying any attention to his brother, he would have certainly suspected that an imminent explosion was coming. Dean would only keep his frustrations contained for so long.

The second day Dean no longer considered his brother's needs while traveling. He stopped when he needed to or the car needed gas. He'd expected Sam to offer to drive at some point, but he didn't. Sam slunk into the corner of the passenger door, his face all but covered by the research papers he'd printed the night before or scanning bookmarked web pages.

Dean's first instinct was to beat his brother to a pulp.

Lucky for Sam, the rational side of Dean's brain was able to maintain relative control of his actions. If he beat his brother, those damn puppy-dog eyes would taint his pleasure with guilt.

Even luckier for Sam, Dean's desire to protect his brother was ultimately in almost full force. He planned a late day on the road. Not so late that he wouldn't cram a decent, full meal down his brother's gullet, but late enough to ensure anywhere Sam might go to print would be closed. Better yet, there would be no public place for Sam to print anything. He considered the sleeping pills in their first aid kit and drugging Sam as well.

He knew Sam was obsessed. He'd seen these obsessive streaks in his family for years, he knew the signs. He knew the only way to fight it was to keep his brother's physical health in tact and wear him down with reason. He'd force food into him and force him to rest or Sam would give out before they could resolve the situation.

"Dean, you've passed three perfectly good hotels. Let's stop." Sam called out when Dean drove out of yet another small town.

Dean said nothing.

"Dean?" Sam straightened in the seat. "Are we stopping?"

Dean knew he needed to control this conversation or it was going to get ugly. "Not yet.

The further we get tonight, the more time we get to hunt this mother fucker down in Huntsville and end this."

Sam was stunned. "Wa… Just like that? We find him and it's over?"

Dean glared at Sam as if he was the one making preposterous statements. He raised an eyebrow. "Duh?"

"You think he'll just confess he's a demon; we torch him and move on?" Sam drilled angrily.

"Yeah? Let's remember, this is your windmill."

Sam would have lashed out in anger, but was completely floored by what his brother had just said. "Wait… Did you just reference Don Quixote?"

"What? The Spanish dude who chased all over and thought windmills were giants? Yeah. It fits, doesn't it?"

Sam's head dropped to his chest, supported by a hand and it shook back and forth.

"What?" Dean exclaimed. "Just because I didn't go to some fancy school…" He chuckled. "Or even go to school if I could avoid it." He glared at Sam. "doesn't make me dumb! Besides, you are a freakin' giant." He prayed Sam came back with more banter. The whole conversation was the first sign of hope he'd had since visiting Imogene.

Sam laughed. "I never said you were dumb… I just didn't know you'd read the book."

Dean's smile turned lecherous. "Pamela Maskers offered to tutor me." He sighed at the pleasant memory. "She helped make an impression."

Sam rolled his eyes, some of the tension leaving his body. He let out a deep breath and relaxed into the seat, allowing his eyes to close and sleep to claim him.

Dean smiled at his own brilliance. _Do I know my brother, or what?_

…**Supernatural…**

Dean had been optimistic.

There was no listing for a Dr. Gelber in the phone book, so they decided to begin searching at fertility clinics. There were ten total but the first eight offered no hope.

"Hello, my name is George Tickner. This is my partner, Ross Valory and we're investigating a malpractice suit against a Dr. Gelber. Is there anyone around who might be able to provide us with information on his practice or whereabouts?" Sam was always smoother about introductions in professional situations. Dean handled them in bars.

Dean merely kept his face neutral and nodded when appropriate.

"There's no Dr. Gelber here and never has been." The receptionist said; her voice filled with confusion.

Sam smiled brightly to keep from groaning. "Yes, I know, but we thought perhaps along the way one of your staff might have come in contact or heard something about him." He didn't see his reasoning getting through to her, so he tried to appeal to her on another level. "You of all people should know how difficult this has been for these women. All they want is a child and he'll tell them anything. We can't allow him to continue this deception. It's a crime against all clinics trying to legitimately helping families become whole."

Dean looked away to roll his eyes. He was glad Sam had gotten a decent night sleep the night before. He was using full thrusters today. Dean grinned and looked back once again somber.

"Is there something I can help you with?" A tall man in his late forties stepped into the reception area. "I'm Dr. Douglas Petnem. This is my clinic."

Sam offered his hand across the counter. "As I was explaining to your receptionist, I'm George Tickner. My partner and I are investigating a Dr. Gelber, who once practiced in this area, or maybe still does." He didn't introduce Dean, as something about the man's demeanor told him he might actually know that Tickner and Valory were members of the band Journey.

"I told him that man's not connected with our clinic, doctor." The woman offered.

Dean couldn't help but picture her as a pit bull chained to the fence. It annoyed him, but part of him admired the dedication.

The doctor smiled. "That's fine, Carla." He gestured over his shoulder. "Why don't we talk in my office? I have a few minutes before my next appointment."

The boys followed the man down a short hall to a well furnished, expensive looking office. Petnem indicated the chairs, as he was stopped by a nurse. "I'll be right with you."

Dean sank easily into a chair. He leaned over when Sam had done the same and whispered. "Like the office? This is what law school would have gotten you."

Sam scowled. "Money and beautiful furnishings? Man, that would have been torture."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You mean you'd actually like this pretentious stuff?"

"Why not? Most people seek this out, Dean. Not the cheapest, sleaziest motel scammed credit cards can buy."

Dean stared at his brother in complete disbelief. "Again, it's like I don't even know you."

Sam had no chance to reply, as Petnem returned and settled himself behind the large mahogany desk.

"I've had several patients who were duped by the wild ramblings of this quack. I'm glad to see someone is finally doing something about it." He looked at Sam. "I heard what you said and you were right. Meddling with the emotions of a woman trying to conceive is hideous."

Dean didn't like feeling left out, so he jumped in. "So what can you tell us about him?"

Petnem hesitated. "It's strange really. I can't believe anyone believed in his work."

"Why so?" Sam asked.

"He… The women who came to him were promised a pregnancy, so long as they allowed him to visit the children and bestow a magical gift." The doctor's face displayed his revulsion. "Can you believe it? It worked though, or so I'm told. Women are often desperate for a child and they'll go to great lengths… believe anything."

Sam thought about his mother, but said nothing.

Dean also flashed to his mother, but his thoughts were very different from Sam's. He found himself wishing he'd been able to see the signs of distress with his young eyes. He couldn't help but think he might have been able to ease his mother's pain. In the past few days, he'd also begun to wonder if he'd added to her strain by asking for a sibling. He couldn't remember. He coughed to clear his throat and mind. "We've not even been able to find a location for his supposed clinic. Do you have any idea where he was?"

Petnem grinned. "I do indeed." He pulled open a desk drawer and shuffled around in it. "He never advertised in the typical ways. He used a lot of fliers and word of mouth. However," he pulled back his hand, proudly displaying a bent, yellowed, business card. "I got this from one of my patients."

He gave it to Dean, who stretched out a second before Sam to retrieve the card. "Thanks. This will be a big help."

Petnem nodded. "I'd fully intended to confront him myself, but by the time I got the nerve, he'd already closed shop and moved out of town."

Sam swallowed, disappointed to have met yet another brick wall. "Thank you. We'll pursue this right away."

"No, thank you. Like I said, it's a sick man who will play with a suffering woman's emotions like that. Can you imagine anyone making such a claim?" Petnem sighed. "I hope you get him and put him out of practice for good."

Sam nodded. "I promise you. We will."

Once they had cleared the building and were on the way to the car, Dean tugged at his necktie. Sam was suspiciously quiet.

"What was that crap in there?" Dean finally growled. "I promise you, we will? Since when do you talk like that?"

Sam glared at him. "Because I intend to find him."

"We don't even know if this guy's even alive? Hell, we don't know that he's human or demon or whatever. There're no promises here, Sammy. You know that." Dean wasn't really angry that Sam had promised some stranger to stop the doctor. He was worried about what would happen if they couldn't figure this out.

"Just drive, Dean." Sam wasn't in the mood to argue.

Dean's head bounced in anger. He slammed the door behind him. "And just where am I driving to?"

"You have the card."

…**Supernatural…**

Dean's stomach growled as he closed the door to the hotel room. He didn't understand his brother's morose mood. They'd gotten a decent lead from the landlady and would head out tomorrow. Dean had insisted on chicken for dinner, knowing that secretly, it was Sam's favorite. Sam always protested to be fine with any food, but nothing made his eyes sparkle more than the red and white bucket of extra-crispy.

Sam was already stretched out on his bed as Dean set the bags of food on the small table. "Hey! We got bird to eat. Get your ass over here."

There was no response from Sam.

"I'm not some frickin' waitress. Get your pansy ass over here and eat!" Dean demanded.

"I'm not hungry." Sam's small voice floated across the room.

Dean scowled and moved to sit on the edge of his own bed, across from Sam. "I don't get it Sam. You should be happy. We got a lead on the dude. With good traffic and your help driving we can be there in two days."

Sam nodded, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. "Yeah, Grand Junction, New Mexico."

"This IS good news, Sam. You didn't just lose a puppy."

Sam finally looked at Dean. "It's him. I know it."

Dean swallowed, losing his appetite. "Jaundice boy?"

"It has to be. Gelber has to be working with him at the very least. We could be close." Sam sighed and it was filled with pain. "I wish dad were here."

Dean glanced away. "So do I, Sammy," _Every day!_ "but he's not. He trusted us to see this through. If this doc is working with yellow eyes, we'll bring him down too."

"How? We don't have the Colt." It wasn't just pessimism that claimed Sam's heart, it was fatalism.

"What's up? We didn't have it last week either, but you still knew we were going to kill this bastard."

"Doesn't it scare you?" Sam asked. He'd asked his brother this question in countless situations and seldom was the answer any different.

"Not any more than usual." Dean confidently answered.

"Not the demon… mom. Doesn't it scare you that she made a deal with this guy and…"

Sam didn't finish because Dean had slugged him in the arm. Hard. "Hey!"

"Never again, Sammy. Don't you ever say anything like that again, got it!"

"But Dean?" Sam's head shook with doubt.

"NO!" Dean gulped for air. "She didn't make the deal. She left to think about it and didn't go back. You are NOT here because of that thing."

"He obviously thinks I am."

**Reference to Don Quixote, by ****Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra**


	5. Chapter 5

**If you don't like what I'm doing, please let me know why...**

**Since I don't like to wait and it seems people are reading, here's chapter five of six.**

**Thanks and enjoy!**

**Chapter Five**

"_NO!" Dean gulped for air. "She didn't make the deal. She left to think about it and didn't go back. You are NOT here because of that thing."_

"_He obviously thinks I am."_

Dean had been stewing all night. His brother was convinced he'd been conceived by not John and Mary Winchester, but Mary and the freakin' demon that attempted to destroy their lives at every turn. He swallowed the bile that urged itself out of his stomach at the very thought of that thing even touching his mother.

There was no way his brother was demon spawn.

It simply couldn't be.

If he was this bothered, he could only imagine the stress it was causing his emo brother. He couldn't tell Sam of his own doubts though. If he did, it would be admitting his own insecurities and fears. Dean Winchester had one rule in life. He protected his little brother in every way and that meant he never gave Sam reason to doubt. Dean never showed his fear. Sam had enough for both of them.

He pulled the car to the side of the road. "Where's that damn box?"

Sam didn't understand. "Do you need me to drive?" He asked absentmindedly.

"No, Idiot. Where's that damn box with the stuff in it?" Dean demanded. He stretched over the back of his seat, searching for the item in question.

"Under your seat?" Sam turned slightly to watch Dean's search. "Why? What do you need?"

"I'm going to prove to you who your damn father is." Dean finally got his fingers on the box and pulled it into the front seat. He ripped it open and began scavenging through the items, seeking certain papers. He pulled two out.

"What are you looking for, Dean?" Sam asked quietly, although he had a pretty good idea of what was being sought.

Dean opened the two papers he'd found and growled. "Where is it?" he mumbled. He went back to the box and continued searching, treating the pictures inside with no caution at all.

"It's not there." Sam said blandly.

Dean didn't hear him. Now he carelessly tossed items aside.

Sam reached his hand out and grabbed Dean's. "It's not there. I looked."

Dean swallowed. "Sam, it has to be. All the important documents are here." He started to turn back to the rear seat. "It must have fallen out. It's just in the back seat."

Sam pushed at Dean's shoulder, pressing him back into the driver's seat. "My birth certificate is not here, Dean." He waited for Dean to accept it and settle. "Why do you think that is?"

Dean frowned. "It's a fluke, Sam. It doesn't mean anything."

"Or it was a lie, so they got rid of it." Sam countered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Mom and dad would throw your birth certificate out. It says dad's name on it, Sam."

"That doesn't make it the truth. People can write any name on them." Sam turned forward in his seat and rested his head against the window. "Let's get going."

Dean grunted. "You are going to get it big time."

Sam glanced over.

"When this is over, I'm never going to stop saying 'I told you so." Dean vented his anger by punching the dash of his beloved Impala. "How dare you!" He glared at Sam with a mixture or anger and hatred in his eyes. "How dare you doubt mom and dad? Insult them like this! Some son you are!"

Sam felt each of Dean's words as a dagger. "Why wouldn't I believe something that makes the most sense?" The pain radiated from his eyes. "It makes the most sense, Dean." He whispered.

Dean choked off further response, his father's warning whispered in his disbelieving ear in the hospital rushing back at him. Did his father know? Was this sick twisted path they were on really the truth? Was that the reason for the constant strife between Sam and their father?

His heart hammered in his chest. He swallowed the bile that kept drifting into his mouth, trying to keep it discreet. He couldn't reveal his distress to Sam. He couldn't. To do so would be acknowledging on some level that this insane theory could possibly be true.

_I can't have spent my entire life protecting him if it boils down to this. _

Somewhere along the line his mother might have visited this witch doctor in desperation, but there was no way she would have gone through with it. John Winchester was Sam's father as much as his own. There could be no other way.

**...Supernatural... **

There was no arguing over music or merits of the performers. There was no discussion of which supermodels were hotter or which actresses had better sex scenes.

There was no live human communication in the Impala as they drove to New Mexico.

Dean offered a truce when they left town. He played cassettes he knew Sam enjoyed.

That only lasted until Arkansas, when they hooked up with Interstate 40. Dean was so annoyed with Sam's attitude; he played only music Sam hated.

Much of the drive across Texas was passed in utter silence. No music broke the air.

When they finally arrived in Grand Junction and found their typical, cheap motel room; the only thing they'd agreed on in three days was how hideous the room was. Dean was sure it was going to give him headaches. Sam predicted nightmares with out visions, which would be too frightened to enter his sleep.

It was called the Salsa Inn, but there were no quaint Mexican decorations. It was more like a sleazy lounge from the seventies. The curtains and bedspreads were both threadbare gold lamés. Sam all but slid off the edge when he tried to sit on the bed. His head was spinning. The walls were painted garish shades of orange, yellow and lime green.

"This is like a bad piece of modern art." Sam lamented quietly.

"You would know, Mr. Art History Class." Dean scowled. "I wouldn't even bring a one-night stand here."

Sam nodded, understanding just how awful the room was.

"Let's get this over with quickly." Dean suggested.

Sam nodded eagerly. It was close to being a truce.

**...Supernatural... **

Sam had scowled when Dean checked the phone book for a listing. "Dean, he doesn't advertise that way."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe he's changed his m.o.?" Dean innocently dropped the book back into the drawer. "It was a shot."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's all of a sudden going to set up shop and take out an ad in the yellow pages after 23 years." He climbed off his bed and confidently strode to Dean's side and took up the book himself.

"I thought he wouldn't be in it?" Dean cockily asked.

"No, but the other clinics will be." Sam fought hard not to sound sarcastic or roll his eyes.

"So we're starting with the clinics again?" Dean asked, enjoying words flowing between them again. He hated being mad at Sam. It never lasted as long as Sam's anger could.

"Makes the most sense. We'll have to talk to the women though. I don't think the staff will be as helpful."

Dean couldn't stop the disappointment from showing on his face.

Sam knew what it was all about. "Don't worry, Dean. You can still hit on them. Who knows, maybe you'll even be the lucky donor for one of them."

Dean was absolutely flabbergasted. He tried to reply to his brother's insinuation but could only sputter.

Two hours later they were in their third clinic. They decided to look inconspicuous after nearly being thrown out of their first place. One would go in at a time and pretend to be waiting for their spouse. They'd enter polite conversation with the patients and steer the conversation toward any word on Dr. Gelber.

Sam bounded out the door. "I've got it. Let's go."

Dean had nearly fallen asleep on the bench outside the facility and he wasn't firing as fast as Sam would have liked.

"Get your ass in gear!" Sam was already at the Impala's driver's door. "Give me the keys."

Dean saddled up and stood next to Sam. "Hell, no. You're too excited. You'll hurt her."

Sam remained determined to drive. "You can barely move. Give me the damn keys."

"Just because I don't have your freakishly long legs, doesn't mean I wasn't moving. Besides, you're not thinking." Dean reasoned, edging Sam away from the door.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I'm not thinking?"

Dean glared at him as if it were obvious. "We can't just go storm the place. We've got to stake it out. See if Gelber's even in."

Sam's face contorted with confusion. "What? What does that have to do with who drives?"

Dean shoved Sam a bit harder and slipped behind the wheel. "It'll give you time to calm down and think of a plan."

Sam's body tensed with anger. "You never listen to my plans anyway."

Dean chuckled. "Well, then come up with a good one for once."

Sam stomped to the other door and climbed in. His face was set in anger.

Dean ignored his brother's mood. "So, genius. How do you know where we're going?"

Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a battered flyer. "This was stuffed in one of the magazines."

Dean scowled. "Well, that was easy. I should have taken that one."

Sam feigned sympathy. "Oh yeah, poor Dean couldn't handle being hit on by another desperate woman."

"I… I…" Dean stammered.

Sam groaned. "Its fine when you're the aggressor, but when a woman hits on you? Damn Dean, are you from the middle ages?"

Dean's jaw dropped in frustration. "Dude! You should have seen her… She was…" He growled and snatched the paper out of Sam's hand and read the address. "Find it on the stinkin' map!"

Thirty minutes later, Dean pulled into a fashionable neighborhood. One of the smaller, but no less impressive buildings on the left was marked simply 'clinic'. Dean pointed. "That's it."

Sam's heart was pounding in his chest. "Do you think…"

Dean spoke at the same time. "How's your head?"

Sam took a deep breath. "We need to find out if anyone's in there. Is there a phone number on the flyer?"

Dean scanned it. "No. Patients are encouraged to drop in."

"How does he manage to be there?" Sam mused quietly.

"Huh?" Dean asked.

Sam cleared his throat. "He has to move around. He was in all those cities at the same time. If it's all walk-in, how does he know when someone is coming?"

Dean nodded. "Good question, but…" He stopped, the answer seemed too obvious.

"What?"

"This doc has to be a demon too." Dean made the announcement confidently, as if there was not an ounce of doubt in his body.

"It's him." Sam whispered. "And he's here."

"How could you possibly know that? You said your head wasn't hurting." Dean demanded.

"My head hurts when I get visions, not just when the demon is around." Sam's eyes never left the clinic as he spit his retort out. "Look!" He pointed to the door, where a woman was exiting.

Dean nodded. "Let's go."

They locked the car and jogged across the street. "So, Sam? That plan of yours?" Dean paused to let a car pass, but flipped the driver off for not stopping.

"Go in. Find it. Destroy it." Sam growled.

Dean nodded. "Good plan."

Sam reached the lobby first. His eyes immediately scanned the room. Just off the desk was a hallway and as he entered, he noticed the last door closing. His instincts told him that was where he needed to go. He moved to follow.

"Excuse me, sir? Sir? Do you have an appointment?" The secretary called out to the stranger crossing the lobby.

Dean didn't pause, but did answer her. "We're here to see the doctor." Ever the hunter, his eyes scanned the lobby as well. He noted a woman shrinking into the corner.

Sam all but ran down the hall. He assumed the door would be locked, so he automatically pounded on it with a strong kick. The door gave way to an excited shout and Sam stepped in.

"You are going to end this now!" Sam roared.

Dean was a heartbeat behind him. "You die!"

Before them stood a middle aged man, with short hair, a white coat and yellow eyes.

"Hello, Sammy."


	6. Chapter 6

**As promised, the conclusion. I hope it satisfies or meets your expectations.**

**I appreciate those that took the time to reply. It's no secret that replies inspire.**

**Chapter Six**

"YOU!" Dean pointed directly at the enemy they'd so long fought. "Don't get to call him that!" As he spoke he raised his gun and took aim.

The demon shook his head as if scolding a child. "No, no, no. You wouldn't want to upset my patients or bring the police here. Don't make a scene!"

Dean tightened his finger on the trigger. He wasn't sure why he hadn't fired yet, wondering if the demon was manipulating him. "I'll risk it."

Their enemy waved his finger with dramatic flourish and the gun flew from Dean's hand and bounced across the far wall. "I bet you would." He turned back to Sam, who had said nothing since his initial outburst.

Dean watched the demon's yellow eyes hone in on his brother and moved to intercede.

At his first step, he felt himself flying through the air and stopped only when his spine made contact with the sheetrock of the wall. He fought to move, but had no success. The demon hadn't taken his eyes off of Sam, but spoke to Dean. "I warned you."

"So this is how you create your demon spawn?" Sam finally spoke. It was as if he was alone in the room with the evil. "How classy!"

The demon doctor smiled. "What you've just said was wrong on so many levels, Sammy. First of all, you shouldn't insult yourself like that… or the others. It really isn't nice. They are your siblings after all."

Dean tried to scream out, but his throat constricted and it came out only as a sputter.

"I…" Sam began but the demon cut him off.

"I wasn't finished. I thought you were the polite one. Your second mistake was implying my system is less than brilliant. It is you know. How else could I grow my army?" His smile broadened. "I'll give you credit. I always must. You're the first to figure it out. You are good. I knew I wasn't wrong to place my faith in you. And don't think the ladies don't enjoy it."

Sam's eyes narrowed. What was visible was cold as ice. "Let Dean go."

The demon raised an eyebrow. "Why should I?" His smile became more lecherous. "I could kill him… or hand him over to some others who would enjoy torturing him."

"Let him go, so we can talk." Sam demanded with no emotion in his voice.

The demon laughed. Whether from Sam's confident demand or the look on Dean's face when it was made was unclear. "You have nothing I want to hear. When the time comes, you'll do what I command, until then, I let you play your silly games."

"But I'm going to kill you now." Sam said softly but deadly.

The demon laughed harder. "How? Your precious colt is gone… gone with your daddy to save that pathetic piece of shit." He pointed to Dean. "Was it worth it? Can you use Dean to kill me? No. I think you got… what's the expression? Hosed?" He stopped and let the silence work through the room. "There's no way for you to fight your destiny. Dean's daddy knew that. It's why he bailed."

"Maybe, but I can kill myself." Sam said bluntly ignoring the demon's taunt. He pulled his own gun from his waistband and aimed it at his own chin. It would blow his brains out the back of his head in a fraction of a second after pulling the trigger.

"It would only save you. I have others." He leaned in and smiled proudly. "You're just my favorite. Who would have predicted the irony? Others merely cowered and denied what had happened, but no… John Winchester had to go out and train his son's to fight evil. Do you think his time in hell will become more complete when he realizes all that training did nothing but better prepare you to succeed for me?"

"Shut up." Sam shouted. He pointed the gun at the demon and fired shots until the chamber was empty.

The demon didn't bother to dissipate. He merely stood there and absorbed the bullets. As they pierced the shell of his skin, he'd make mocking comments or cry out in false agony.

The shots sent the receptionist running to check on her boss. She entered the room and screamed at the sight before her. The demon merely glared at her and a second later she screamed again as she realized what he was doing.

He pulled bullets out of his own body and sent them flying across the room into her. She was dead by the time the third bullet had pierced her head, the first two having entered each eyeball.

"Dr. Gelber? Susan? Um, do you need help?"

The voice of the lone patient drifted down the hallway. Sam might have rolled his eyes at her stupidity, but couldn't dwell on it. As soon as the demon made to pass him, he lunged in a vain attempt to stop the demon from killing the woman as well.

Sam stumbled over the dead receptionist, but managed to crash into the demon.

It was useless. The demon stretched out a lone arm and Sam was flung across the room. He slid across the desk and smashed into the wall behind it where he finally stopped. He was stunned and shook his head to clear his vision.

As he climbed to his feet, the demon reappeared in the doorway. "Well, it looks like you've managed to muck things up for me again, Sammy. She called the police before she called out. She was dumb. Good thing it went no further. She really shouldn't be having children." His eyes narrowed on Sam. "Your mother was a beautiful, intelligent woman. She delivered me a fine son." He laughed at Sam's sickened expression. "I should be going. I've got work to do elsewhere."

Sam sprang to his feet and made for the demon, but quickly hit an invisible wall. He could move neither forward nor backward. In the next moment, he felt himself helplessly rising a few feet off the ground. He shouted, but his words were absorbed by the air in his bubble.

"Since you went to all this trouble, I'll confirm what you so badly want to know. Yes, this is ONE of the ways I've created my army. Women come to me and I give them what they want. As you know, on the child's six-month birthday, I come and give my children my gift thus setting their powers in place. It's really a simple plan. Everyone wins."

Sam's reply finally penetrated. "Except then you kill the women and then their children."

The demon laughed. "Some mothers merely get in the way."

"How?" Sam demanded.

The demon considered Sam's question. It was clear he was uncertain of how much information to reveal. "Those mothers who would instill the strength to defy my will have to die."

"Like Jessica?" Sam said, softer, but still strong enough to be forceful.

"Exactly." The demon glanced over to Dean, who still struggled against his invisible bonds. "Your dear love might have inspired you to defy me."

Sam smiled, finding hope in what the demon had revealed. "So, your plans can be defeated by the people around us?" His eyes ran quickly to Dean.

For a fraction of a second, the demon seemed to regret his words, but he quickly masked it. "Nonsense. Don't be naïve. It's not going to be that easy."

Sam didn't care. He knew he'd confirmed a chink in the demon's armor.

The demon moved closer to Sam and stretched out his arm, running his hand along Sam's jaw. "You've had my gift. It's too late."

Sam recoiled as much as he physically could.

"My son, my son. It's kind of nice no longer having to pretend. You were mine all along." He stepped back.

Sam swallowed back the bile in his throat.

The demon flashed on Dean and delivered a few invisible punches. "I should just kill you now." He glanced over to Sam. "But MY son does so enjoy having you around… and you do watch over him for me."

Dean growled as best he could and fought all the harder to free himself.

The demon waved him off. "Oh, I know… You're going to kill me…" The demon stopped in the center of the room and spread his arms out, offering himself as a target. "Take your best shot." He broke into laughter and then sighed looking around the room. "I liked this practice. A shame."

"Dr. Gelber is through as soon as they find those bodies." Sam cried out.

The demon nodded. "Yes, but soon it won't matter." He looked directly at Sam. "Soon." Having had the last word, he leered one final time at Dean and then dissipated into his usual black smoke, leaving only his white doctor's smock behind, not even a meatsuit.

The Winchester brothers fell simultaneously to the floor, freed of their supernatural restraints.

"Damn I want to kill that bastard." Dean growled. He crawled over to his brother and cuffed him along side the head. "Don't you EVER threaten to kill yourself AGAIN! I don't work this hard to see you pull shit like that." He looked back to the lab coat. "How did he do that?"

Sam didn't honestly know if he could have followed through on his threat, but he wasn't going to let Dean have a reaction. He climbed to his feet and went immediately to search the room. Dean stared at him, confused. "What are you doing? Someone had to have heard those shots. We have to wipe down the room and get out of here."

Sam continued to pull drawers open. "He has to have files. We have to find them… patient lists. There are others out there."

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled his brother's arm. "He's a demon, Sam. You can't believe anything he says. We don't know how often he was successful." He pulled his shirt sleeve down over the palm of his hand and began to wipe down the desk after Sam. "Let's go!"

Sam hesitated. He hated being this close only to come up with nothing. Glancing at the determined look in Dean's eyes, he opted to follow. He gazed over his shoulder as he allowed Dean to pull him from the room. "He's not going to keep files that will mean anything to us, Sam." Dean added. "He wouldn't work that way."

Stepping over the body of the young woman who's only sin was desperation, Dean mumbled. "At least Gelber is shut down for good. They'll have to credit him for this." He gestured to the double murder.

Sam nodded slowly. Minutes later they were safely ensconced in the Impala and getting as much distance as possible from the clinic and after a quick stop at the motel, the town of Grand Junction.

**...Supernatural... **

Sam sank back into silence.

Dean was feeling alright with the world and it showed in his demeanor. He felt strongly they had at least hampered the demon's efforts. He knew his brother was still struggling though. Loathed as he was to enter into what he considered to be 'chick-flick' conversations with anyone, he knew one was now needed. "Sam… He lies. The demons say things to play with our minds. You can't believe what he said."

Sam took a long time, but finally nodded. "He said family can interfere. That's a good thing." He forced a small smile for his brother, acknowledging what his brother was trying once again to do. Save him.

Dean chuckled. "I've been telling you that all along, little brother. Please," he groaned with exaggerated annoyance, "don't tell me you believe it because HE said it."

Sam chuckled. "No way. My big brother said it first…" _Even if you are only a half-brother… is that powerful enough?_

Dean might have read his brother's unspoken thoughts or he simply knew Sam that well, but he went on to the next topic. "John Winchester IS your father, Sam. There's no doubting it. There's no way you could be as stubborn and pig-headed as him without genetics." He grinned proud of his reasoning.

Sam was quiet, but held a small smile. "That's the age-old question, Dean. Nature versus nurture…"

Dean growled and reached over to grab a map tucked against the seat. After a quick glance, he pulled a u-turn and went back the direction they'd just come.

"Where are you going? We're not going back?" Sam stammered.

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm going to prove to you, once and for all… You are Samuel John Winchester."

**...Supernatural... **

Sam was stunned to wake up and find himself back in Lawrence, Kansas. After their last visit, he was sure no act whatsoever would have gotten his brother to return. Of course, when Dean stopped the car in front of the county hospital, he knew why they were there.

Dean returned to the car an hour later grumbling. "Takes so frickin' long for a stupid photo copy." He shoved the document he clutched into Sam's hand. "SEE!"

Sam looked at a photocopy of his birth certificate, noting it listed his mother, Mary Cutter Winchester and father, John Edmund Winchester. "Dad's middle name was 'Edmund'?" Sam mused.

Dean rolled his eyes. "DAD… See! He's your dad…" He nodded confidently and added. "By the way, that thing's no good. Don't go applying for a passport with it. It's only a photocopy. They wanted 4-6 weeks to get an original."

Sam tried to remain light hearted, for Dean's sake. "Damn, no trips to Mexico…"

"Or Canada." Dean added. "Although it would be nice to get a passport for Germany… think of the beer!" He refused to consider the risk he'd taken going in to a public facility and asking for Sam's birth certificate. The feds were looking for him after all.

Sam chuckled. Sam wasn't yet convinced, even with a document. However, Dean's steadfast faith was addicting. He folded the paper and tucked it into the box with their other family treasures, the box that had started it all. He forced himself to appear more interested in the journey knowing it was the only way Dean would let things go. "So, where are we headed?"

Dean grinned seemingly even more proud of himself than usual. "Plymouth." He answered, simply.

"Plymouth?" Sam gasped. "Why?"

"Because this isn't over yet."

… **Supernatural …**

After a short visit with Imogene, the Winchesters took their valuable gift back to their hotel room and ordered a pizza. Dean threw the stash of letters on the table and pointed to Sam. "Start reading… I'm going to grab a shower."

An hour later, a partial pizza consumed, Dean jumped off the bed. "This is it!" He handed two letters to Sam.

Sam read the first. It was in his mother's hand and told about her latest attempts to get pregnant and how she discovered she was. He raised the letter and shook his head, expressing his doubt.

"Read the next one." Dean radiated excitement.

Sam read his mother's description of her ultrasound, something still relatively new at the time. As he did, his mind started to click. He stopped reading the words and double checked the date on the top of the letter. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He took the deepest breath he'd taken in a very long time. "It's true… I'm not…"

Dean bounced with excitement. "I told you. Nature versus nurture my ass! You are John Winchester's son and my brother, completely. Mom was already pregnant when she went to that ass. He didn't touch her."

_Well, he still might have._ Sam reread his mother's words. "The ultrasound confirmed her at three months along…"

"She'd only met the demon a little over a month before hand." Dean finished.

Sam took several more deep breaths and smiled. It was perhaps the most genuine smile Dean had seen on his brother in… well, more time than he cared to remember.

"Welcome back, little brother."

Sam sighed. "But why did mom say she was sorry?"

Dean thought a moment. "She must have known that by visiting that demon disguised as a doctor, she might have brought this on us."

"She feels guilty?" Sam asked softly. "It wasn't her fault. She just wanted…"

Dean nodded. "She probably knows that too."

Sam surmised the whole story. "So, he believes I'm his spawn… So he comes… gives me his supposed 'gift' …" A cold shiver passed through Sam. He refused to finish the thought. "And the rest is history."

"It's probably another reason why you aren't like the others… Why your powers aren't as developed…" Dean mused.

"And here I thought it was just because I stubbornly fight it." Sam revealed a small smile.

"And the end of the story is us killing that son of a bitch." Dean beamed.

"Do you think he knows he's really not…" Sam mused.

Dean chuckled. "I think the bastard is too arrogant to even consider it."

Sam joined in the laughter. He was a true Winchester and they would defeat this thing.

**Thank you for reading…**

**It never hurts to share why you liked or didn't like it.**


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